Music is the one thing that connects my soul to memories.
Silverchair reminds me of gut wrenching nights and self inflicted red soaked bed spreadsheets and too much ephedrine diet pills half out of my run on sentence mind.
Elliott smith reminds me of rose marching bands with the only muck left after the party being the long long long vomit in the kitchen sink with shadows pacing the floor of a fond farewell.
Alice In Chains reminds me of a tollbooth collector nightmare beckoning to feast upon sores that make a living milking scars.
Many other artists, lyrics, songs and intonations blend into a: ” Plea away, let the cables sleep darling”
I threw out depressions music once before and listen it still echos.
It’s why worship music is the only thing spinning these days, to keep away the life I walked away from.
Be careful little ears what you hear, for the Father up above is looking down in love.